


that one time we were quarantined

by randomfills (spnfanatic)



Series: the top verse [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Dean Winchester, Alpha Sam Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Fingering, Animalistic, Arguments, Baser instincts, Bottom Dean Winchester, Bottom Sam Winchester, Dirty Talk, Dominance, Dominant Dean Winchester, Dominant Sam Winchester, Dubious Consent, Fights, Handcuffs, Lube, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Quarantine fiction, Rape/Non-con Elements, Restraints, Rough Sex, SPN kink meme fill, Spit As Lube, Spreader Bars, Switching, Top Dean Winchester, Top Sam Winchester, and there aren't any omegas, because they're both alphas, bunker fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:53:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24799510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spnfanatic/pseuds/randomfills
Summary: Normally it's not a problem with both of them being Alphas. Whenever they start to bicker, or jostle for dominance, one or both of them will go out, fuck an Omega and get it out of their system. But not this time. Because here's the thing - they're stuck in quarantine together. Confined together, they've gradually been getting more and more on each other's nerves. Their air is filled with their clashing Alpha scents, both trying to claim the territory. One day they snap, and they're on each other like animals, like two hurricanes colliding. Both determined to fuck the other into submission. They fuck, and fuck, and fuck. Days pass. Finally, with the place around them absolutely wrecked and splattered with cum, the brothers have sated their inner beasts and can co-exist in the same space. For now.https://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/161738.html?thread=47885002#t47885002
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Series: the top verse [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1668778
Comments: 4
Kudos: 79
Collections: Supernatural Kink Meme





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I told myself I wasn't going to write a quarantine story, but I couldn't resist with this prompt. Also please heed the warnings. While they both end up enjoying getting fucked, the guys are both alphas and they didn't ask each other for consent. Also yes this is a switch fill. This chapter is told in Dean's POV and he tops. There's also restraints included in this chapter with a belt.

“Son of a bitch! Really?” Dean shut the fridge. Again. For the third time in twenty minutes. Like the missing beer case was going to magically reappear if he took another peek in the fridge. He turned around and stomped out of the kitchen, to the war room where Sam was currently holed up, hunkered down in front of his laptop. He looked up as Dean pulled out a chair across from him and sat down. He glared at Sam’s perplexed face.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Sam asked, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“You know why,” Dean said. He crossed his arms and tipped his chair back.

Sam glanced down at his laptop before closing it. Then he looked back at Dean. “No I really don’t, Dean. Seriously. I have no clue why you’re mad at me so why don’t you enlighten me?”

“Fine. You drank all the beer,” Dean declared, leaning his chair forward again. “ _My_ beer.”

Sam sputtered, “What? No way! I wouldn’t drink the beer you buy even if you paid me. The stuff you get sucks. ” He pulled off one of his bitch faces. It would’ve been funny in any other circumstance but Dean was currently out of beer and frustrated as hell. Being cooped up, even in the bunker, with just his brother was so not what he had in mind when the virus hit and everyone had to stay quarantined (unless it was for emergency, like _beer_ emergency).

He slammed a fist on the table in frustration. “If you didn’t drink it, then who did? ‘Cos it certainly wasn’t me. I bought the case last night and I didn’t even open it. Now I find the whole thing is gone and guess what, Sam? We’re the only two who live here.”

Sam lifted his hands up, getting frustrated that Dean was frustrated. “I don’t know, man! Maybe Cas snuck in the middle of the night and stole your shitty beer or there’s a ghost in the bunker that really likes the crap you get. But I didn’t fucking take it!”

Dean snorted at the thought of Cas popping in to take his beer from the fridge. “Dude, why the hell would an _angel_ like Cas pop into the bunker to steal my _shitty_ beer?” He paused long enough for the words to sink in. Sam was still glaring back at him, not willing to give up on the argument, no matter how stupid it was. Then again, neither was Dean. “Besides, Cas has better things to do than come back to earth to steal beer from me.”

“Well it wasn’t me,” Sam huffed. He stood up so that he was towering over the table and Dean had to look up just to meet his eyes.

Dean narrowed his eyes because he knew exactly what Sam was doing. He was posturing. They were both alphas and usually it wouldn’t so bad because if either one was particularly annoyed with the other, one of them would just leave the bunker and find some omega to fuck and the next day, they’d apologize and things would go back to normal. But the damn virus prevented them from leaving unless it was an emergency, like for food or _beer_. Only the grocery stores were open right now. 

He stood up as well. Dean wasn’t as tall, unfortunately, but he was not going to be sitting down while Sam tried to intimidate him by hovering over him like a shadow. “Fine. It wasn’t you, but you owe me for the beer anyway,” Dean said, extending a hand out.

Sam stared at him in disbelief but Dean wasn’t budging. He pursed his lips, “Seriously?”

“Seriously. Gotta replace the beer,” Dean grumbled.

“I didn’t take it,” Sam repeated for the fourth time that day, reminding Dean of a broken record player.

“I heard you. I’ll get you your girly, fruity alcohol as well.”

“Fine,” Sam said reluctantly, fishing for his wallet. He pulled it out and a wad of cash and handed it over to Dean.

Dean took it happily, counting out the bills before stuffing it into his pocket. “I’ll be right back then,” he said, grabbing the keys to the Impala on his way out of the bunker. “Don’t throw a party while I’m out, and bedtime before ten.” He grinned at the glare Sam gave him.

It took less than an hour to get to the store, pick up a couple cases of beer and some hotdogs and a few other things, and then head back to the bunker. Sam was lounging in the war room still by the time he walked in and set down a case in front of Sam. Sam had been staring at his laptop, before looking up. There was a stack of books next to him on the table.

“Here,” Dean said, grabbing the change from the pocket of his jeans and slamming it onto the middle of the table. “What’s with the books?”

Sam just shrugged before leaning forward and scooping the bills up. “They’re about angels, got them from the library.” Dean raised an eyebrow. “I was just going through some of them. Thinking about making an online archive, you know, in case anything happens to the books or this bunker. At least the information will still be available.”

Dean walked around to take a look at one of the books. He picked up the book on top of the pile and flipped it open to a random page. It talked about the different color wings and shapes. The pictures were pretty detailed. He flipped around some more before closing it and dropping it back onto the stack. 

“After that, I was going to archive the history of witches. You should see the stuff in the library, Dean. I know we don’t like The Men of Letters but the library’s a treasure trove of information,” Sam continued.

“How do you even know all this stuff is accurate?” Dean asked finally. “Like how do they even have information on angels if angels haven’t been seen in over two thousand years?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Well obviously not everything is going to be accurate. I can just talk with Cas after this quarantine lifts and fix whatever needs to be fixed. Anything else you want to interrogate me over?”

Dean stared at his brother for a moment. He could tell Sam was getting annoyed so he wisely backed off. “Whatever. If you need me, I’ll be in my room bingeing on some of the greatest horror movies known to man.” At Sam’s blank stare, Dean added, “ Oh come on, Sammy. _All Saints’ Day_. And on second thought, don’t need me.”

He spent the rest of his night with a case of beer tucked under his arm, watching reruns of slasher movies, starting with the series All Saints’ Day. Sam must have got his warning because he didn’t barge in like he normally would, opting to stay at his laptop and do whatever it was dorks his age do. 

The next morning was also uneventful. Dean woke up at around ten, which was early for him these days during the quarantine. Sam was sitting in front of his laptop by the time he came out, sitting in almost the same exact spot the night prior. Dean wasn’t sure if he’d even left to sleep.

“Hey, Dean,” Sam said without even looking up. To his credit, the pile did look a little shorter so he was making some progress with his archiving.

“Hey,” Dean said back, heading into the kitchen. “Want some pancakes?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Dean made pancakes for the two of them and brought the plates over. He slid one over to his brother who barely even glanced up. Dean sat down on a chair and started to eat. He looked over to see Sam still hunched over his laptop. He cleared his throat and said, “You know it’s kind of weird.”

“What’s kind of weird?” Sam asked absently. He clicked on something a couple times.

“It’s been a week now and we’d usually be out on a case,” Dean said. He lifted another forkful of pancakes to his lips as he thought some more. “By now, we’d be knee deep in werewolf guts or something.” He chuckled at the image that conjured up. Sam glaring and bitching about having tufts of werewolf fur on him.

Sam didn’t even respond, still fixated on whatever was on the screen.

Feeling a little annoyed at being ignored, Dean nearly dropped his fork. He leaned forward a little more instead, his elbows touching the table now, as he stared at his brother. What the hell could honestly be more important than holding a nice conversation and eating breakfast with him? “Dude, are you even listening?” he asked.

“Yeah, of course,” Sam said but he was still typing furiously. 

Dean found himself glaring at the laptop. “What was I talking about then?”

Sam finally looked up with annoyance. “Something about not being on cases. Look, Dean, I get it. It’s frustrating to be cooped up in the bunker. Trust me. I’m frustrated about it too. But there’s nothing we can do about it except to learn to deal. And right now, I’ve got something to help me deal. You need to do the same. That doesn’t involve me.” 

Dean let out a frustrated huff, “Fine. Sorry.” He ate the rest of his breakfast in silence. Sam went back to whatever the hell he was doing on the laptop, taking a couple bites from his own plate whenever he remembered it was there. After breakfast, Dean washed his plate and went back to his room to watch some Netflix. If Sam didn’t want to be bothered, fine. He could leave his brother alone for a day or two. Besides it was probably for the best since they were obviously getting on each other’s nerves. His scent was practically covering the entirety of the war room now. Dean found he could hardly stand just being in there for more than a few minutes at a time.

The next outburst wasn’t until a couple days later. Sam finally decided to leave the war room and Dean found himself sprinting down the hall to the room they decided would be for laundry, at Sam’s shout, “DEAN!”

“What? What’s going on, Sam? You okay?” he asked after he caught his breath.

Sam glared down at him, pulling out one of his wet underwear. “Dude, look at this,” he said, shoving it into his face.

Dean blinked, taking the underwear and staring down at it. It was one of Sam’s white ones. “What am I looking for? It’s just-” He cut himself off, swallowing when he looked closer. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh. It was white when I bought it, Dean,” Sam said, taking it back. “Not pink.”

“Whoops. Sorry,” Dean said, rubbing the back of his neck. He could smell how frustrated Sam was.

Sam picked up another underwear that looked like the other one. “Dude, do you even know how to do laundry?”

“Hey, I’m sorry. It was an honest mistake,” Dean said. “Don’t bite my head off.”

“Whatever,” Sam snapped, taking his clothes and putting them in the dryer. He crammed some clothes into the washer, poured some bleach and turned the machines on. He stomped out of the room, pushing past Dean.

Dean followed him out. 

With each passing day, Dean found himself locked in his room, watching whatever was on TV, coming out only if needed. The brothers were getting increasingly annoyed with each other. Dean would find some of the food he bought for himself go missing and Sam would deny eating any of it. 

“Where the fuck did _my_ bacon go?” Dean growled, slamming the fridge door.

“How the hell should I know, Dean? I don’t even eat meat,” Sam shot back.

“Well it’s just us here, buttercup. If I didn’t eat it, and you didn’t eat it, who did? Don’t even suggest a ghost or I swear…” He trailed off, staring down at Sam. “And that’s another thing, Sammy, you’re a fucking alpha. What kind of alpha doesn’t even eat meat? What? Are you a prissy omega in disguise or something?” As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized he may have gone a little too far. But it was too late.

“Fuck you, Dean,” Sam shouted, standing up and slamming his laptop shut.

“As if,” Dean snorted as Sam stomped out.

It only got worse after that.

The next day Sam accused Dean of touching the mountains of books that seemed to increase in the war room and Dean just raised an eyebrow and chuckled, “Seriously, Sammy? You think I’d touch your stupid books?”

Sam stood up and glared at him. “I don’t know, Dean. You tell me,” he said coldly.

Surprised Sam was backing down, Dean glared back at him. “I didn’t touch your damn books,” he hissed. Sam’s frustration could easily be felt in the air. And it was suffocating and only amped up his own emotions. When Sam didn’t sit back down, instead, walking around the table to stand across from Dean, only inches away, Dean hissed, “What the hell is your problem?”

“You’re my problem,” Sam shouted, pushing Dean back.

He stumbled in surprise, but was back on Sam in a moment. He shoved Sam back. “Dude, back off. You don’t want to do this, Sammy,” he warned him.

Sam snorted, not taking the warning. “Actually, I do.” He shoved Dean hard so that he was stumbling back into the table. 

Dean hissed at the pain. “What the fuck? You know I always win these fights.”

“Not this time,” Sam said. Then he lunged at Dean, tackling him to the floor.

Dean wasn’t sure what the hell was going on except that they were rolling on the floor, both trying to wrestle for control. One moment Dean was under Sam, but then Dean was able to get a hold of Sam’s legs and switch their positions. The feeling of triumph only lasted a second before he was flipped over again. There were kicking and punching and scratching and biting and Dean couldn’t be sure, but the fight may have lasted twenty minutes before he was back on top, putting more weight down on Sam’s stomach.

“Fuck,” Sam groaned.

“Told you you can’t beat me,” Dean said, feeling the adrenaline of the fight still coursing through him. “Kind of pathetic for an alpha.”

Sam narrowed his eyes and managed to shove Dean off him. Dean landed on his ass, surprised that Sam still had enough energy for that. “Fuck you, Dean,” he growled, launching himself at Dean.

They fought each other for another hour before Sam started to show signs of slowing down. Dean was getting tired as well but he still managed to tackle Sam onto the floor and sit on top of him. Somewhere throughout the fight, Dean’s dick had started to take interest. Sitting atop Sam the way he was, he could feel that his brother was just as aroused as he was. He leaned closer and said, “Gonna fuck you, Sammy. Maybe then you’d stop being so annoying.”

Sam’s eyes widened for a moment, then narrowed. He started to squirm, trying to get out from under Dean but Dean put more weight down and he groaned at the pain. “Fuck you, Dean. Not gonna be your bitch,” Sam hissed. He reached out to grab Dean’s arms but Dean saw the movement and grabbed them, pinning them above Sam’s head. “You’re gonna be _my_ bitch.”

Dean chuckled. “Like to see you try, bitch.” He unbuckled Sam’s belt and used it to tie Sam’s hands together. “For today, though, I’m gonna let off some steam with your ass and you’re gonna shut up and take it because you fucking owe me,” he growled, his voice brooking no argument. He started to work Sam’s pants and boxers off him before pulling his own pants off. Luckily, he decided he wasn’t going to wear any underwear today. What was the point if he wasn’t going to go out? 

He grabbed the lube from the back pocket of his pants before tossing it somewhere behind them. Sam raised an eyebrow, but Dean just shrugged at the unspoken question. “Can’t be too prepared.” And maybe he thought about plowing an omega behind the grocery store, so what? Can’t blame an alpha for thinking about it.

“Whatever. If you’re gonna fuck me, just hurry up,” Sam said, squirming a little under him.

Dean glared, pushing his hand on his stomach. “Bitches don’t get to give out the orders.” He uncapped the lube and poured a generous amount into one hand. He dipped a finger in and said, “You ever been fucked, Sammy?”

Sam glared up at the sound of his nickname but wisely didn’t comment on it. Instead, he shook his head. “No, can’t say I have,” he said through gritted teeth.

Dean flashed him a grin that looked more feral. “I’d say ‘I’ll be gentle’ but that’s a lie. ‘Cos you’ve been pissing me off lately,” he said and reached down to dip his finger into the entrance of his ass hole. “You ready for my finger, Sammy?” He didn’t even wait for Sam to nod.

Sam hissed as Dean started to push his lubed finger in. It felt cold and it hurt. But Dean kept pushing until he was knuckle deep, then past the knuckle and soon he was pumping in and out and started a rhythm that was gradually increasing in speed. Sam was starting to get used to it and started to involuntarily relax his muscles before Dean was pushing in another finger alongside. And it hurt all over again and he found himself stiffening at the pain. 

“That’s it, bitch. Fuck. You feel amazing,” Dean said, pumping his fingers in and out at a pace that Sam was finding hard to keep up with. 

Sam let out a moan before he could stop himself. Fuck. “Oh god,” he groaned. 

Dean pulled his fingers out with a chuckle. “That’s a lovely compliment, but no I’m not God,” he said, lining his dick up with Sam’s loose hole. “But keep the compliments flowing in.” He pushed in, eliciting another groan from Sam. “Damn, Sammy, you feel so good. So loose, like an omega. You sure you’re an alpha?”

“Fuck,” Sam gasped at the feeling. “Fuck you, Dean.”

Dean grabbed Sam’s hair, pulling him forward so that he could see the smirk on his face, “Don’t you mean, fuck you, Sammy? ‘Cos I’m pretty sure I am.” Then he pushed in all the way and Sam lost all train of thought as pleasure and pain swept through him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Top Sam in this chapter. Restraints via handcuffs and spreader bar. Spit as lube, fingering, rough sex. Also more non con. This whole fill is non consensual. They're both pretty animalistic.

It went on like that for the rest of the day. Dean decided today was going to be the day Sam would get fucked in the ass everywhere in the war room. He’d been plowed against the table, on top of the table, on the floor, on top of a stack of books (which by the way was not very comfortable) and Sam decided, fine, Dean could have today, but he was going to return the favor tomorrow whether Dean liked it or not. It wasn’t like they could go out and find an omega to take their sexual frustrations out on, not with the world basically on lock down. And Sam certainly was not going to go to the nearest convenience store to look for a hookup. He was not that desperate. Not yet at least. 

Besides, even if Dean was an alpha, he wasn’t bad looking. Certainly wasn’t ugly. In fact, he was the opposite of ugly. He was really freaking pretty and if it wasn’t for his height and build and smell, Sam could’ve sworn his brother was an omega.

Dean finally tired himself out after he came inside Sam for the sixth time that night. He couldn’t even make it to his room, deciding to just lay sprawled out on the floor, still buck naked next to Sam. He’d untied Sam hours ago and Sam found himself sitting on a chair staring down at his sleeping brother. Maybe Dean was finally sated after fucking Sam like he was in a rut, but Sam was far from satisfied. While he learned he did like getting fucked, it did nothing to satisfy all the pent up frustration that had built since he’d been cooped up with Dean during the quarantine. 

Dean fucking owed him. He could imagine Dean’s face when he woke up with Sam plowing his ass. He went back to his room to grab a spare set of handcuffs and a spreader bar. He grabbed Dean’s arms and pulled them over his head, before locking them into the handcuffs. Dean was a heavy sleeper and didn’t even move as Sam carefully maneuvered his brother around. He spread his legs and locked each ankle into the cuffs latched to the bar.

He yawned and decided to head to bed to grab a few hours of rest, leaving Dean still sleeping on the floor of the war room. Dean would wake up cold and uncomfortable no doubt but Sam considered retribution for fucking Sam until the point of exhaustion. 

The next morning, Sam woke to the sound of yelling. He sat up slowly, looking to the clock on the wall to his left. It read seven in the morning. He stood up and shuffled to the door, opening it wide so that Dean could be clearly heard, “SAMMY! Get your ass over here!”

It took a moment for Sam to realize that Dean found his surprise. He was probably trying to wriggle free but between the cuffs and the spreader bar, Dean was effectively trapped and at Sam’s mercy.

Sam took his sweet time reaching the war room. He grinned when he found an absolutely furious Dean glaring at him. “What the fuck is this?”

Sam was walking around him, drinking in the powerless position Dean was in. He crouched down in front of his brother and said, “This is _my_ turn.”

Because it was.

Dean stilled as Sam reached over to brush a hand down his side. He watched as Dean shivered, trying to hide it by attempting to lunge up at Sam, baring his teeth. Sam leaned back, “You got to fuck me all yesterday, Dean. It’s only fair.”

“Well tough shit, Sammy. I’m not a bitch. Not for anyone, including you,” Dean snarled.

Sam couldn’t contain the rage he felt. This was the shit he had to put up from his brother, day in and day out. He was so done with the level of selfishness that seemed to seep through Dean. “Fuck you,” he hissed, backhanding his brother. 

He watched impassively as Dean’s head whipped to the side. For a moment, he wondered if he took things too far, but then Dean was turning to look back at him and his eyes narrowed and he said, “Really, Sam? You wanna play like that? Let me up and let’s see if you can beat me this time. Fair and square. Like a man. Or are you really just an omega pretending to be an alpha?”

Sam’s eyes flashed red in anger. Any sympathy he had for his brother all but disappeared. “No. You know what, Dean? I was going to fuck you gently, make it as painless as possible but after that, I’m not feeling so nice.”

“Fuck you. Let me up right now,” Dean growled, squirming under Sam but it was a fruitless attempt because he was pinned down and he couldn’t even move his legs. 

“No. Not today. Today’s my turn to fuck you,” Sam said simply, before moving to kneel between his spread legs. 

Dean tried to kick out but it was useless. Sam growled and reached out to squeeze Dean’s dick tightly. He watched his brother gasp in surprise before groaning in pain as Sam just squeezed harder. He stopped trying to thrash under Sam. Sam leaned forward, shoving his fingers into Dean’s mouth before he could protest. “Get me as wet as you can, this is all the lube you’re getting before I fuck you,” he hissed. He felt Dean’s tongue swirl and suck at his fingers.

After a minute, he pulled out and lined up his fingers with Dean’s clenching hole. Dean let out a gasp as he pushed in with one finger. He quickly found a rhythm before adding his second finger. It went in easier as he loosened Dean up but with the way Dean was shaking and hissing, you’d think Sam was pushing his dick in dry. He continued to pump in and out of his hole, quickening the pace, hearing Dean’s huffs and gasps. It felt good to be in control of his usually in charge brother.

Sam wondered if this was how Dean felt yesterday when he was fucking Sam against the wall. He finally pulled his fingers out before replacing them with his already fully hard dick. He pushed in slowly, gasping as he felt his brother’s warmth around him. 

“You feel so good, big brother,” he groaned as he slowly pushed all the way in. He started to pull out and then push back in, feeling Dean shudder under him.

Sam decided he was going to fuck Dean way more than once today. Besides, if Dean got to fuck Sam at least six times yesterday, it was only fair for him to return the favor.

It went on and on like that for days. They kept grappling for dominance and somehow it ended up with both of them taking turns successfully ousting the other and the winner getting to fuck the other. And it felt good. It was like years of pent up frustration was finally being released. It was...really therapeutic.

It lasted for a full week before they both decided they got it all out of their systems. And Dean made Sam promise not to tell a soul he had been on his hands and knees, ass in the air for his little brother.

Sam just rolled his eyes and said, “Yeah. Whatever. Just pass the syrup.” Who was Sam going to tell? Cas? He was pretty sure the angel already knew about their sex life. He knew practically everything about the Winchesters. Which was creepy if Sam was being honest.

“Seriously, Sammy,” Dean said, holding the syrup bottle hostage.

“I am serious,” Sam said. “I won’t tell anybody if you won’t.”

Dean looked at him, trying to see if he was lying. Satisfied that Sam was actually serious, he slid the bottle across the table. “I won’t. Though you know there’s nothing wrong with wanting to be fucked by another alpha. I know how much you liked it when I plowed your ass,” he added as Sam paused just for a moment to stare up at him.

He glanced back down at his pancakes and poured a generous amount of syrup on them.

“I mean it,” Dean continued in his silence. “You’re still my brother and I ain’t gonna think any less of you.”

It was true Sam did like getting fucked but he rather enjoyed doing the fucking more. He glanced back up to see Dean leaning over the table. He set the syrup bottle down none too gently and watched as Dean flinched. It was a small involuntary movement. “Dude,” he said, raising his voice. “I get it. I’ll admit I did like getting fucked. But trust me, Dean, I loved fucking you even more. And I bet you liked getting fucked too. I mean, you should’ve heard yourself, Dean. Moaning like a goddamn omega pornstar.” He watched as Dean blinked, his face heating up, his mouth gaping open. “Now are you done projecting? I’m kind of starved.”

Dean didn’t say anything in response, and Sam grinned, before digging in.

**THE END**


End file.
